


Sharing Is Caring

by CanaryCry



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Grayson (Comics)
Genre: M/M, Missing Scene, Sharing a Bed, Spyral, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 21:04:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5840893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanaryCry/pseuds/CanaryCry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Between taking down enemy agents, Dick and Tiger have to share a bed. One of them may be less comfortable with the arrangement than the other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sharing Is Caring

**Author's Note:**

> Missing scene set somewhere in the five day gap in Grayson #16.

Dick still couldn't quite believe it. Begging Tiger to go rogue with him had been an act of desperation. It didn't help that he'd been a little oxygen-deprived at the time.

And yet, there they were, on the road in a car they'd stolen from Agent 7. Days later, Dick still didn't think Agent 7 was nearly competent enough to be that far above him in rank. Tiger had taken to ignoring his complaints about it. That was fine. Dick could talk more than enough for the both of them.

It seemed they had done nothing but drive and fight for days. Dick had forgotten what sleep felt like.

Tiger freed one hand from the steering wheel to rub at his eyes, the first sign of tiredness Dick had seen from him.

“I can drive,” Dick offered. He felt pretty worn-out himself, but he hadn't been driving for hours on end like Tiger had.

“No.”

“Are you afraid I'll crash the car?”

“There is a safehouse we can use up ahead,” Tiger replied, ignoring the question.

“Is there food? I'm good for now, but I like breakfast. Most people do.”

“There should be canned food, if your billionaire palate can handle the strain.”

“It'll be hard,” Dick said, “but I'll pull through. Your concern means a lot to me.”

Tiger pulled the car up to a warehouse with boarded-up windows and a metal rolling gate. “Get the gate.”

Dick slipped out of the car and pressed a button. The gate shuddered and rattled its way up. Tiger drove inside and Dick followed him in, hitting a button on the other side to close the gate again. It shrieked this time, echoing in the empty space a thousandfold. Dick plugged his ears until it was over.

He jogged over to Tiger, who'd already navigated a set of metal grate stairs to reach a low platform. Tiger opened a door, which squeaked on its hinges.

“Get in.”

“What a gentleman,” Dick said, winking at Tiger as he passed through.

“I let you in first, did I not?” Tiger let the door snap shut.

“I wasn't being sarcastic. That time.”

The room up here was roughly the size of a handkerchief, dirty beige carpet almost entirely covered by a lone mattress on the floor. The only source of light was a lamp on the floor beside the bed.

“Well, that's disappointing,” Dick said. “I expected a mint on the pillow.”

Tiger took the fleece blanket and smacked it against the wall, exhuming a cloud of dust. “Consider yourself fortunate there are no bedbugs.”

“I'll be sure to mention that in my review.”

Tiger threw the blanket back onto the bed. “We have to share.”

“I figured.” Dick kicked off his shoes. “I don't usually wear much while sleeping. And these pants kinda chafe.”

“Do what you like,” Tiger muttered, turning away to toe his own shoes off in a more orderly fashion.

“And I woke up with a bruise from this strap once.” Dick discarded his shirt and holster strap, folding and placing them on top of his shoes. His pants soon joined the pile. Tiger did the same behind him.

They eyed each other.

“Nice muscles,” Dick said.

“...you too.”

“That may just be the nicest thing you've ever said to me,” Dick said brightly and hopped into bed. “Coming?”

There was a second of hesitation. Then Tiger lifted the blanket and slid underneath. The bed wasn't really large enough to accommodate two grown men. Tiger remained on the edge and Dick was as close to the wall as he could manage, but even the slightest movement had their shoulders knocking together, feet fighting for space.

It didn't bother Dick as much as it probably should have. Tiger, however, was tense beside him.

“You know,” Dick said, “if you need help relaxing, I do a pretty killer massage if I do say so myself.”

“No, thank you.”

Dick stretched as much as he could without smacking Tiger in the face. “Are you sure? We've been cooped up in the car for hours at a time, doing a few minutes of fighting and then getting straight back in the car. Some stiffness is totally understandable.”

“I will survive.” Tiger switched off the lamp. “Go to sleep.”

A street lamp shone right into the room. Dick was just tired enough that he found himself staring at it for several minutes at a time, not thinking much of anything.

“Is the light a problem?” Tiger asked after a while. “There may be something downstairs I can use to cover the window.”

“It's fine,” Dick replied. He wasn't the sort to get put off by light while he was trying to sleep. He just liked staring at it.

Tiger's foot was sticking out of the blanket. Dick wondered if it was cold. They hadn't slept in a few days. Dick was starting to feel it. He wondered what aftershave Tiger used.

“You smell nice,” he said, because apparently that sounded like a good idea to his sleep-deprived brain. Not that he'd ever been terribly smooth when talking to people he was attracted to.

The lighting wasn't great, but he could've sworn Tiger blushed. “ _Go to sleep._ ”

“I'm trying.”

Tiger shifted, knocking knees with Dick. “Try not talking.”

“Try not moving.” Not that Dick minded, exactly.

“Sorry.”

“That might be the second-nicest thing you've ever said to me. Or maybe third, behind that time you said I wasn't a complete idiot.”

“I take it back.”

“Which one?”

“All of it.”

“Even my muscles?”

“Especially your muscles.”

“I still think you've got nice muscles,” Dick replied. “I'm big enough to stand by what I said, even though you've hurt my feelings.”

“Are you always like this without sleep?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“I feel sorry for all your previous partners, both bats and spies.”

“Yeah, I feel sorry for them, too.” And for himself, just a little bit.

They lapsed into silence. Dick's ankle itched, but he couldn't reach it without disturbing Tiger, who'd closed his eyes. He was still awake; the tension had yet to dissipate.

* * *

Tiger wished Dick would shut up. The man had chattered incessantly from day one of their partnership. He could handle it most of the time, even having some minor success tuning him out, but it was impossible to ignore him when they were pressed together like this.

Worse, Dick lost what little filter he had when he was tired.

“You know,” Dick said, “when I was a kid, someone told me seagulls would explode if you gave them indigestion tablets. Because apparently they can't pass gas. I don't think it's true, but I never bothered to look it up.”

“Is this really the time?” Tiger was having enough trouble sleeping already. Every accidental touch they shared jolted him back to full awareness; Dick's voice kept him there.

“I always ponder the important questions when I'm in bed,” said Dick. “Don't you?”

“No.”

“That's disappointing, but unsurprising.”

“Be quiet.” _Please_ was on the tip of his tongue, but he wouldn't say it. Wouldn't give Dick the satisfaction.

“Are you still mad I said you smelled nice?” Dick asked.

“I don't—”

“Because I can take it back. Maybe I was lying. Maybe you don't smell nice at all. Maybe my nose hairs have been singed by your stench and I was just trying to spare your feelings.”

“ _Maybe_ you should go to _sleep_.” There was no way Tiger could fall asleep first, even without Dick's chatter. He just wanted Dick to go to sleep so he could relax a little. The fact Dick seemed completely unbothered by their sleeping arrangement only made matters worse. If he had been rambling out of discomfort, Tiger could have dealt with it. But no. He was rambling because he was sleep-deprived and no longer had any concept of boundaries.

Dick spoke again: “Someone told me once that when we look up at the night sky, all the stars we see are actually dead and we're only seeing them now because of how far away they are and how long it took their light to get here.” He yawned, but kept talking. “I actually looked that one up. They were wrong. Most of the stars we see with the naked eye are alive. The ones further away that we need a telescope to see are more likely to have died.”

“Good for you. Shut up.”

For a moment, it seemed like Dick would finally shut up and close his eyes. Then:

“Do pigeons have feelings?”

Tiger switched languages to spit a few curses that Dick (hopefully) wouldn't understand.

“Do I want to know what you just said?”

“No.”

“I was kidding. I know pigeons have feelings. All birds have feelings. They way they behave around their mates—did you know they preen each other?—could even be interpreted as love.”

Tiger wasn't in the mood to talk about love. Even less than he had been to talk about pigeons, really.

“Have you ever been in love?” Dick asked.

“I am not having this conversation with you.” Tiger had no idea how he felt towards Dick at the best of times. This conversation wouldn't do either of them any favours.

“I have,” Dick said. “Loads of times.” His voice softened. “I'm not great at _not_ falling in love, you know? Things would be easier if I was.”

“That's nice. Go to sleep.” It was insensitive, but if it shut down the conversation...

Dick sighed. “Sorry. Nostalgia. Well, mostly.”

Tiger didn't know what to make of that. The sooner Dick fell asleep, the better. Thinking was hard this close to him. Not to mention breathing.

Dick rolled over to face the wall, accidentally nudging Tiger with his hip. “I'll stop bothering you. Goodnight.” Five words Tiger had started to think he'd never hear.

“Goodnight,” he replied.

Dick dropped off to sleep within minutes after that. Tiger let out a breath. Dick had freed up a little space by lying on his side, but it still wasn't enough. Tiger was tempted to sleep on what little floor there was, because being this close to Dick was... it was too much.

“You infuriate me,” Tiger whispered to Dick's back. A lean, well-muscled back. Tiger rolled over to face away from him. Alia would kick his ass if she knew. Right after she was done teasing him about it.

This has been a terrible idea.

* * *

 

Dick woke with the distinct feeling that he'd been turned into sandwich filling overnight. As in he was pressed between the wall and a warm body. Tiger's warm body. Uh...

Tiger's breath tickled his ear. Slow and steady. Then a snore. He was fast asleep.

He was also going to flip out when he woke up, because there was no way this had been intentional. Dick wasn't impatient for that to happen, so he just lay there in Tiger's arms, running over their plans for the day. They had to get gas, but most gas stations with working security were a risk. Spyral could use camera footage to track them. They probably should've stolen a less flashy car.

Tiger, still asleep, pressed his cheek against Dick's shoulder. Dick could get used to this. He had to force down a laugh. That wasn't going to happen. On the off-chance they were both still alive and not trying to break each other's teeth by the end of this, it was highly unlikely Tiger would want to spend time with him of his own free will. That was at least partially Dick's fault. He wasn't in the habit of letting Spyral agents, even rogue ones, see beyond the joking mask he showed them. It was safer that way.

One final, loud snore and Tiger jerked awake.

“'Morning,” Dick said lightly, in the moment before the man would fully register where we was.

Then the moment came, and Tiger practically leapt away from him, a deep red settling into his cheeks.

“Okay, I'm flattered,” Dick joked, “and you even bought me dinner first. You really are a gentleman.”

Tiger grumbled something under his breath, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

“Relax,” Dick said. “It happens. Normally it's my fault, so the variety's nice.”

Tiger threw off the blanket and stalked over to his clothes. Dick followed suit.

“It's okay to be embarrassed,” he said placatingly, stepping into his pants.

“I'm not embarrassed,” Tiger muttered.

“If you say so.”

“I'm _not_.”

Dick let him pretend. “Okay, so.” He finished dressing. “Breakfast.”

Tiger wordlessly led him out of the bedroom and into a corner of the warehouse that had slightly less dust settled on it than the rest.

“Help yourself,” he said. “I have a few things to take care of.”

“Don't run off without me.”

Tiger was already heading back into the bedroom and offered no response.

“Poor guy,” Dick said and searched through the cupboards of this makeshift kitchen. Beans. That'd do.

He was halfway through a can of them by the time Tiger returned and grabbed another out of the pantry. His blush had died down, but he was avoiding Dick's eyes.

“Breakfast of champions,” Dick said in a poor attempt to diffuse the tension. Tiger didn't laugh, not that Dick had expected him to. Even when not mortified, he didn't tend to find Dick funny.

“We should leave soon,” Tiger said as if Dick hadn't spoken at all.

“Sure.” Dick's spoon hit the bottom of the can. He scraped up as many of the remaining beans as possible.

“That's it?”

“Hm?” Dick had a mouthful of beans.

“I expected a joke.”

Dick swallowed. “Didn't have one.”

“Right.”

Dick set the empty can on the wobbly table. “Where are we headed?”

“How do you feel about snow?”

“It's not the worst thing in the world.”

“Good.”

“Can I drive?”

“No.”

They headed to the car shortly thereafter. Dick wanted to talk about last night, but didn't know how to broach the subject without making Tiger shut down completely. Something was up. Tiger was not a man who blushed easily.

Dick sighed as he got into the passenger seat after taking care of the gate. Tiger eyed him questioningly, the rumbling of the engine filling the silence between them. Dick clicked his seatbelt into place rather than come up with a plausible explanation.

They had left the city before Dick felt like talking. A question.

“Have you ever had feelings for a guy?” he asked, not really expecting an answer.

Tiger's lips twitched, just short of a smile. “Maybe.”

“Yeah, me too.”

He watched the white lines disappear under the hood of the car.


End file.
